


In Knots

by malignantParadigm



Category: Homestuck
Genre: Alternate Universe, Bukkake, Dubious Consent, Hermaphrodites, M/M, Size Kink, Somnophilia, Trichophilia, Xeno
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2012-03-19
Updated: 2012-03-19
Packaged: 2017-11-02 04:43:07
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,732
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/365083
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/malignantParadigm/pseuds/malignantParadigm
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Tavros is fairy sized troll just looking for a warm place to sleep, unfortunately Gamzee's hair has other plans. Get ready for hair-raising shenanigans!</p>
            </blockquote>





	In Knots

Tavros shifted in the nest of hair he was laying in. Gamzee was sound sleep underneath him. He usually didn’t sleep on Gamzee, they weren’t that close anymore. The matespritship they had had when they were wrigglers didn’t translate well to their new adult sizes.

It had been funny, when they were young, Gamzee had been the smallest of their friends, easily able to curl up in his lap. Now though, after they had gone through their final pupation, Gamzee had become the giant among them, he was even bigger than Equius was, and Tavros had only gotten smaller, barely taller than his lusus Tinkerbull, he could actually ride her. He was too small to pail another troll, and wouldn’t produce enough genetic material to satisfy an imperial Drone, but, because of his size, the drones ignored him.

Tavros could escape the them, but Gamzee couldn’t.

It hurt, when he saw Gamzee with others. He didn’t tell Gamzee that, or about how he touched himself, remembering their times together. It hurt, but he could get over it, would get over it. He was still with Gamzee at least, helping him. Being his ears and eyes where he couldn’t hear or see.

He knew Gamzee didn’t pay attention to his surroundings all that much sometimes, or suspect the trolls who would aim to take his head. He had saved Gamzee on more than one occasion, over hearing a secret conversation or rerouting out some plot.

He may have been small, but his natural psychic ability had only gotten stronger. It balanced out his disadvantage, and made him useful. There was no animal or creature he couldn’t control now, and no one paid attention to the little bugs and things he had crawling around in the vents. He was still useful.

The Grand Highblood had summoned Gamzee to one of the main ships in the fleet, though not his. There was a disturbance there, and he was needed to help route it out. Gamzee was just there for show really, The Grand Highblood had made that clear to them. It meant that they had to pack up quickly and use an emergency transport shuttle as he had wanted it done as fast as possible.

The room in the shuttle craft was bare, and cold. If he slept by himself, there was a good chance he would get sick or freeze. Gamzee had been sleeping sounder as the sweeps wore on, and he hardly moved now. It was mostly safe, sleeping in his hair. He had less chance of being squished should Gamzee move, and his hair was soft, and surprisingly warm.

He snuggled a bit closer, buried deep in the mass of wild hair, resting on Gamzee’s scalp. His wings touched the hair on either side, but that was fine. It was pleasantly warm.

Gamzee Makara was dreaming, dead to the world. Or at least, most of him was.

It is a little known fact that among psychic trolls, those who do not make the effort to tame their hair can end up with it developing a form of sentience, the nerves will grow into it, then thin vines of muscle, and soon it can become like millions of tiny limbs, guided by the subconscious and fuelled by psychic energy.

This can only happen if the hair is never cut, not once. You cut troll hair and it dies, become like the hair of any other species. But Gamzee Makara had never cut his hair, he'd never been told he had to, and after a while it became uncomfortable to even brush it, and so...it grew. And it changed. And it learned.

There was something inside it, something brushing against it's strings. The Hair could feel the intruder's delicate limbs and wings flutter and tangle every so lightly in it's many arms. It enjoyed the feeling, it was familiar. This was the being known as Tavros. Gamzee loved Tavros, and so, by extension, did his Hair. It liked the weight of him, enjoyed the comfort of him whenever he took a minute to untangle a knot or two. It missed him though because, of course, Gamzee missed him.

Gamzee had never stopped missing him. Sometimes Gamzee missed Tavros when they were just a foot apart or even when they touched. Especially when they touched. Sometimes Gamzee remembered burying his head in Tavros's chest and feeling the low rumble of his laugh, and it was all he could do to keep from crying.

His Hair couldn't cry, of course, but it felt the loss of Gamzee's matespritship, in it's own way. And tonight Gamzee was dreaming...not a prospit dream, but a real, honest, mind-made fantasy. The Hair could feel it whirling underneath the confines of his skull, and it could feel Gamzee's reactions to it, too.

Whatever was happening, there was Tavros, and Gamzee, and heat, and love and pity and passion and oh...the Hair started to feel that passion. It crawled up its mass, up each single strand from root to tip, caused it to want to stir and move and...

A sturdy rope of black wound itself slowly around the sleeping leg of the fairy-troll, while thinner tendrils began to snake under his shirt, and run their greasy lengths teasingly across his chest.

In his sleep, Gamzee moaned.

Tavros twitched his leg at the slick smooth feeling circling around his leg. He unconsciously kicked out, and tried to shift, making a contended sound as he found another comfortable position, slightly leaning his body to the left. Putting his weight on the stands on his stomach.

In his own mind, there was nothing but feathery touches.

If the tendrils could have made a sound, they would have purred, but the only noise was of the soft sounds of hair brushing against skin and itself. The tendril on Tavros' leg wound tighter until it had firmly knotted itself there.

Meanwhile, the single strands sliding along Tavros's chest had wormed their way into the seams of his tiny, hand stitched shirt. With quick, sharp dexterity they tugged and tore, breaking the thread until the pieces of the shirt fell easily away. Contented, the resumed their sliding along the tiny muscled planes of Tavros's bare chest. More strands joined them, while others still began working away his pants.

In his dream, the feathery touches were becoming stronger, and he put Gamzee’s hands on them. It was nice, feeling his hands over his body. He moaned a bit, a quiet churr making its way out of his throat, though it was probably a bit too high to hear for most trolls.

His shirt was suddenly torn away, but that meant more touches, and that was good. It was nice and warm and smelled like Gamzee. He tried to bring his leg up, to move, standing still was just odd, but his leg got stuck and that jolted him out of the dream.

His mind was still fuzzy, and didn’t know quite what was happening yet, but he still felt the touches, and it felt good.

The hair felt the change in Tavros's breathing when he awoke. He was awake, and that was fine, that was lovely, but he would have to stay quiet. Gamzee must stay asleep, the sensations must not end for they were wonderful and glorious and to be kept safe.

A thin rope of strands crept up behind Tavros's neck and quickly moved across his cheek to his small mouth, where they teased at the edges of his lips.

Another, thicker, vine had started wrapping around Tavros's second leg, mirroring the first, though it ran up even further on his thigh, now that Tavros was completely divested of all clothing. The thin strands had made short work of his pants and underwear, they lay in scraps on the pillow beside Gamzee's head.

Tavros twitched. “What..?” He felt something soft at his mouth, tickling the corners. It made him laugh. One hand went to touch the strands on his face, it felt oddly smooth and thin. He tried to move his legs farther up, perhaps to help get himself up, but the were stuck.

The feeling of his limbs trapped brought him to full wakefulness and he tried to shift, to turn around, his wings starting to beat, hitting the strands of Gamzee’s hair. What, what was holding onto him? “Gamzee?”

Gamzee murmured in his sleep, frowning at the voice. In an instant, the slow, careful movement of the Hair quickened. The strands at Tavros's mouth slipped inside when he spoke, sliding thickly and suddenly over his tongue.

And more strands appeared, out of every direction. They roped around his chest in complicated patterns of various widths, pushing his wings into their folded position and binding them to his back. Two sturdy strands whipped out and wrapped suddenly around both his wrists pulling them upwards over his head.

Many thin, whip light strands began to crawl up his bound calves and thighs, toward his groin...

Tavros tried to scream, and bite down on the fibres that had pushed their way into his mouth instinctively, probably cutting a few strands on his more needle like teeth.

It tasted like oil and dirt and Faygo. He tried to resist the pull on his arms and legs, tried to get them back under his control, but it was no use. His wings hurt a bit, with out they had been forced back down along his back. He hoped that they weren’t damaged.

He whipped his head around, or tried to. His horns kept hitting the thick strands that were everywhere. Gamzee’s hair was everywhere, and it was moving. He looked down, at the sleeping face of his friend.

His hair was moving on its own…

He felt a creeping on his thighs and looked lower. Strands were crawling up his thighs, towards his bulge that was only partially unsheathed. He tried to will it back in, and tried to call out again, around the mouthful of hair.

The Hair in Tavros's mouth moved deeper, somewhat into his throat in an attempt to silence him. Several softer strands ran lightly over his chest, attempting to sooth him.

Shhh, the being called Tavros. We will not harm you. They tried to seep this message into him to still his thrashing, so that Gamzee may continue to dream his blissful dreams. Which were getting headier, and darker by the second.

The ropes around Tavros legs pulled taut, forcing them apart as the first slick, oiled hairs reached Tavros's bulge, they teased and ghosted over it, coaxing it slowly out of it's sheath, and when it was far enough out to wrap around, other strands surfaced to do so. Soft ropes of sinewy hair wrapped around his base and wound all the way to the thin tip, tugging and sliding around him. Others crawled elsewhere, exploring every crevice and dip in his musculature. Still more stayed at his groin, creeping behind his bulge to tease around his nook and ass.

This could not be happening. This could not be happening. Tavros’ eyes were bulging a bit when the hair forced its way deeper, it was getting harder to breathe. The Hair was drowning him in Gamzee’s smell, it was like when they were younger, when he used to just bury his face in his hair.

He groaned as those hairs wound themselves around his bulge. It twined around, loving the cool strands. It made him arch, and try to move. It felt good, so, so good. His body started to heat up, and those little churrs started to escape his throat. He was starting to relax, just a little bit.

He didn’t notice the hairs going for his nook at first, but when he did, felt the tendrils teasing and brushing, he started to struggle again, biting down on the hairs in his mouth and shouting, muffled as it was. He tried to close his legs, but it didn’t do much good.

Hair brushed his face soothingly, and the hairs in his mouth began to move against his tongue, winding around it and back again. Shh, Tavros. Be calm. We only wish to share with you the feelings we know you crave, as Gamzee does...Be still...Be quiet...

The thin strands ghosting at his nook wound and knotted together, becoming more like a corded limb than anything remotely resembling normal hair. Its pointed tip traced around Tavros's hole before pushing inside, slick with oil and Tavros's own natural wetness., The other fibres on Tavros quivered as they shared the experience, and soon more tendrils of roped hair were traveling toward, and joining the others inside of him, stretching his nook more with each new addition. The hairs on his bulge moved and pulled faster, and harder.

Tavros chocked slightly as he felt the hair, enter, him, sliding in easily. He couldn’t help the throaty groan. How long had it been, since he had something that wasn’t him in his nook? He drew a shuddering breath. The tendrils on his face tickled, and only distracted him.

He arched as he felt more enter him, moving in and out wetly. It was the only sound he could really hear in this room, besides Gamzee’s own breathing. Just the sounds of his muffled voice, the smooth glide of hair, and the wet, rhythmic sounds of the hair in his nook.

His bulge pulsed within the hair still around it, pumping itself as it could. It wasn’t much, his hips were pretty much stuck, but there was still that old familiar slide. It made him clench his eyes closed fingers fisting above his head.

The Hair felt Tavros arches of pleasure, and, as a reward, the hair in his mouth slipped out slightly and began to stroke along his tongue and lips, poised to renter his throat if he became too loud.

The rest of Gamzee's hair was growling restless. It ran along Tavros whole body, covering him, smothering him in its warmth and scent affectionately. More hair kept trying to find its way inside him, or find purchase to wrap around his bulge, but there wasn't enough Tavros to go around. A dripping wet, well lubricated rope of it slipped out of his nook (making way for more hair to fill it's place) and drifted downwards instead, towards the only unoccupied orifice of his body. It squirmed wetly against him, before pushing it's way into his ass.

Tavros’ head was thrown back, as much as it could be, breathy squeaks escaping his mouth a bit, now that the hair had retreated. Gamzee’s hair was enveloping the rest of him, he could feel it everywhere. He doubted there was an inch of him that wasn’t being touched, or caressed or stroked.

His arms hung limply where they were held above his head still, having mostly given up fighting. They didn’t even hurt, the hair was holding him up, putting no strain on his body. It was also infuriating. He wanted to move, to thrust and to grind back. The thick smell of Gamzee seemed to be clouding his senses, but it was so good. A half growl churr escaped out his throat.

He didn’t notice the clump of hair that slipped out of his nook until it had moved, pushing against his ass. “What.? He tried to say, but it was horribly muffled. Then it started to push in. His eyes snapped opened and he let out a loud shout. No no nononono. Things do not go in the waste-chute. That is why there is a nook. He started twisting again, managing to get one of his hands free, slipping it out of the hair.

He couldn’t do much, but he tried to pull at the hair holding his other arm.

Gamzee licked at his lips, moaning. His dream, it was so vivid. So intense.

The Hair in Tavros's mouth pushed back into his throat, and stayed there, almost admonishingly. His bound arm was wrenched high upward, more Hair wrapping more around it while other strands grasped at his free arm, then wrapped so tightly around each that soon Tavros's arms were completely buried, elbow deep in knotted, twisting, clenching Hair.

The Hair in his ass pushed deeper inside him, and, seeming to follow it's lead, several other cords of Hair left his nook to join it, slowly trying to find their way inside, brushing slickly along his inner walls.

Soon there was no more room inside either his waste-chute or nook, the hair the wound thickly inside him filled him completely and just pushed and slid and writhed deep as it could reach without damaging his tiny frame. The hair on his bulge had tightened considerably.

Too much, it was too much too soon. His ass was burning with the sudden entrance, and he though he might be bleeding. His own natural juices seemed to be numbing it, though, slightly, or making it easier to take at least.

His arms were pressed tightly over his horns, but he couldn’t move them an inch. He tried kicking his legs, but it made the mass moving inside him feel more intense, and the hair around his bulge….

It was tight and hot. There was that delicious pleasure pain. He was close, he thought, and tried to scream again, but the hair was far down his throat. Hair was surprisingly hard to scream through.

As the Hair moved and slid and tugged, it began to move too fast, tugging at it's own roots in its desperation to touch as much of Tavros as it could. In his dream Gamzee felt the tug at his scalp and it stung enough to rouse him, just a little. Blearily and half asleep he reached a hand up to scratch at his aching scalp.

It felt...wrong. Like there was something else up there, pulling his hair in one direction. Was a Flap-beast trapped in his hair? Not again, Gamzee thought, opening one bleary eye.

Sensing Gamzee was awake, the Hair's unconscious instinct went haywire, it clenched around Tavros, spasming, confused. Some of it, like the hair in Tavros's mouth, retreating completely and some of it, like that in his nook, attempted to go faster, deeper. One of Gamzee's long fingers reached sleepily toward Tavros and brushed against one of his bound thighs.

“What the fuck?” He mumbled, feeling higher. As he searched, his heavy fingers made contact with Tavros bulge.

Tavros let out a harsh yell, a bit of pain, a bit of pleasure. The hair had tightened around him, almost to a painful degree. The hair going in his nook and ass though. That hurt. It wasn’t meant to go in that far, but the speed felt deliciously good.

He couldn’t stop himself form calling out Gamzee’s name, mumbling it over and over again now that the hair gagging him was gone. He didn’t really hear Gamzee wake up, though he felt the fingers and nails at his bulge. It tried to curl around the fingers, flopping wetly with the natural lubricant that coated it.

“Uhhh...” Gamzee was definitely waking up now, something very weird was going on in his hair. He blinked sleep out of his eyes and in the back of his mind thought he heard Tavros's voice, but it must have just been the remnants of his dream...but no, there it was again. It was coming from...

“Tav?” Gamzee asked, feeling along the tiny body in his hair. As he touched each strand, the hair stilled completely, calming, like a nervous animal being tamed. Gamzee gulped, What was happening. Was Tavros caught in his hair? How the hell did that happen. He hoped his little buddy wasn't hurt at all. What if he'd been strangled?

Reaching up with his other hand he felt along his hair bed until he made contact with Tavros body, gently he prised the now, perfectly normal behaving hair from around Tavros's limbs, unwrapping it and freeing him gently. The hair that had been inside Tavros and around his bulge slid out and away wetly, rejoining Gamzee other locks as though they were snakes in the long grass.

“Tavros? You alright, little guy?” Gamzee asked as he untangled Tavros, sleep mostly gone from his voice.

Tavros hissed and groaned in frustration. His skin was oversensitive, with the sudden lack of physical attention, the strands falling away, lifeless as they had been before. It was so cold in this room, but there was a hand in front of him, and he clung to that, wrapping his now free smaller arms around the digits.

He felt woefully empty, and didn’t have much urge to move his shaking legs. He wrapped his arms around the hand in front of him, clutching desperately as he shivered and panted. His wings vibrated behind him, knocking free the hair that was still clinging to them.

There was the delicious coolness in front of him and he couldn’t stop himself from grinding his bulge against the hand, whining.

“Tav? What're you...” Gamzee's words died in a sigh as he felt Tavros's tiny, warm body wrap around his fingers, he felt wet and he was shaking in his palm. Gamzee gently, gently lifted Tavros, cupping him in his open hand, and carried him forward to rest at Gamzee's eye level.

Tavros was...rutting against his hand, making small, desperate noises. His tiny, but obviously engorged bulge slid in between the crook of Gamzee's middle and index fingers.

His mouth was hanging open, his throat dry. He was transfixed at the sight of Tavros fucking his hand, and, in spite of himself, he felt his bulge unsheathing at the sight. He hadn't seen Tavros like this since they were wrigglers...and it had been from a distinctly different vantage point.

Carefully, his hand shaking just a little, he moved his fingers, tightening and sliding them against Tavros small, slick body.

“...Fuck.” He whispered in a breath. His freehand groping for his own, unsheathed bulge. “Fuck, Tav.”

He whined as he ground against the hand holding him. It was tight and good, but he was still teetering on the edge. He brought one leg up around Gamzee’s finger, it couldn’t go all the way around, but the was good enough. His other leg hung under him, small nails digging into the skin.

The sound of his name made him open his eyes, and he was face to face with Gazmee, who was staring at him, as he, as he rutted against his hand like he had just discovered his bulge. He felt his face heating up, but he didn’t stop thrusting and grinding against Gamzee’s hands. He only stared, panting around the tips of Gamzee’s fingers

Gamzee was mesmerized, he took in every tiny detail. He'd been so used to Tavros being so small for so long, that sometimes he forgot how well built he still was. Perfectly formed muscles clenched around him, his horns and wings were so small and lovely they could have been used in jewellery. He watched Tavros's perfect, tiny hand grasp and claw at his own, monstrously huge one like a lifeline, and he barely felt the pinprick sting of his claws.

As if in a trance, his free hand found his bulge and began to stroke, pacing himself to match the frantic thrusts of the troll in his hand. Tavros looked so desperate, so far gone that he was barely in control, Gamzee wanted to help him. Wanted to make love to him... but what could he do?

There was one thing...something he'd only ever allowed himself to fantasize about a few times after Tavros had emerged from his cocoon, and Gamzee had tried madly to think of ways they could still be together. He'd never tried it on him yet, but maybe this was his chance.

Gamzee's long, pointed tongue slid out of his open mouth. He brought Tavros even closer to his face, but not close enough for his fluttering wings to be in danger of catching on Gamzee's fangs. Carefully, he turned his palm, so that Tavros's back was facing him, and extend his tongue, brushing it against Tavros's backside as he continued to rut. It was far too big to fit inside the miniature troll, but Gamzee still lapped at his nook and ass, both which looked strangely open and sore from this angle. He wormed it between the others asscheeks and the folds of his seedflap, never penetrating, but getting as close as he could without hurting Tavros.

Tavros gripped the fingers as he was turned, his wings flaring slightly to help him keep balance. He tired to turn his head to look behind him, but his horns got in his way again, banging against the other‘s nails.

He didn’t stop grinding against the fingers in front of him, though. His wings batted against Gamzee’s lips and cheeks. He felt something wet and slick at his sore and leaking nook and waste-chute. It made him freeze, shivering. The other’s breath ghosted over him as he was licked. With his legs spread as they were, there was very little that Gamzee’s tongue did not touch.

It was too much, and he didn’t last much longer. With a cry he came between Gazmee’s fingers, splattering genetic material between the fingers where it ran down, dripping on the other’s palm. His limbs shook and he half collapsed on Gamzee’s tongue and fingers.

Gamzee wished he could have seen Tavros's face as he came, but watching his wings and back twitch and feeling the muscles of his lower half contract against his tongue, well that was just as good.

Shakily slightly, Gamzee lowered Tavros away from his face, gently coaxing him out of his hand to rest on the muscled plane of his stomach. The hand on his bulge was moving faster now, fingers twining and winding against his own length as he watched Tavros recover, the rise and fall of his petite back with each breath.

The hand formerly carrying Tavros was brought back to his mouth, and without him even realizing what he was doing he licked it, tasting Tavros's genetic material for the first time in many sweeps. He licked up his palm and sucked his fingers clean, his eyes locked on Tavros the entire time.

Tavros adjusted himself from where Gamzee had put him down. His body was still shaking from the after shocks, his nook yearning for something to fill it. His forehead was pressed down into the skin of Gamzee’s stomach and his wings fluttered.

Gamzee was cool underneath him, and he dozed for a second. It had been a while since he had last touched himself, too much going on for him to find time. He forced himself to look up, however, at Gamzee who was liking his fingers, watching him. It made him swallow thickly.

He became aware of the movement below him, both by the gentle air currents the act was disturbing and the sounds. Gamzee was touching himself, watching him. It made his face heat up.

He bit his lip, and looked to Gamzee’s bulge, which was being steadily being stoked by Gamzee, flushed a deep purple. He wobby got to his feet, legs shaking slightly, but made his way down, to where Gamzee was stroking himself.

He looked back over his shoulder as if asking permission before he shyly reached out a hand to touch the slick organ by the base.

Gamzee stilled in his stroking the second Tavros got to his feet, and tilted his head, watching him curiously. He bit down hard on his own hand when Tavros began to touch him.

The touches were feather light, it felt so strange, like nothing Gamzee had experienced before. He pulled his hand slowly away leaving nothing in the way of Tavros's gentle stroking. His bulge too seemed curious at the new form of attention, it rubbed its length against the side of Tavros's chest and curled, tip brushing under his small fingers like a friendly beast, begging to be petted.

It was strange, seeing a bulge this close up. Gamzee wasn’t small by any means. He had been bigger than almost all of his previous partners. He blushed at the thought of when he had spied on him pailing others from vents, imagining himself in their positions.

Gamzee’s bulge was longer than he was, and thicker. It was curled around him right now, moving under his uncertain, light touches. How would he even be able to please Gamzee like this. He wished he had thought this through a bit more.

It nearly knocked him over with its nudging and urging, forcing him to grasp at it, remembering at the last second not to use his claws to find purchase, but he may have scratched him a bit anyways. He would fall over if that happened again, but he was already close, maybe..

He wrapped his arms around it, as far as he could go, stroking it with his hands. It smelt like sex, this close, and he gave a tentative lick, wondering if that would help. He hoped it felt good for Gamzee. One hand went traveling up, bending the bulge and playing with the thinner end.

Gamzee groaned, his bulge pulsed, he'd never been this close to coming so fast before. He watched and felt Tavros practically hug his bulge, rubbing the length of it as best he could. His delicate touches and licks were tortuously light, almost ephemeral, the occasional scratches drove him mad with need.

Gamzee whimpered, feeling his chest pang despairingly even as his orgasm hit him. He came in short spurts, so intensely and suddenly it was practically painful. His bulge was turned toward Tavros when it happened, and even though there wasn't nearly as much genetic material as usual, it still sprayed over the Tiny troll, splattering his face and chest and pooling at his feet on Gamzee's pelvis.

Tavros didn’t have time to close his mouth or eyes when the first splatter of genetic material hit him in the face. It thankfully didn’t get in his eyes, but he did get a mouthful of the salty liquid, making him cough a bit when he inhaled it in his surprise.

His arms had tightened around the bulge, trying to hold it still, though it just seemed to move around more, drenching him in transparent indigo. It covered his front and shoulders. Some had even landed on his wings, dripping of the brown thin membranes. His wings flickered behind him, trying to shake of the liquid that coated him, though it just got it everywhere.

Once Gamzee had stilled, his bulge slid through Tavros's arms and trailed downwards, re-sheathing and leaving nothing but a mess behind. Gamzee caught his breath and reach down to try and wipe off the genetic material on his stomach and groin, so Tavros wouldn't have to walk around it in but it didn't help, just smeared it around more. Tiny flecks of his own cum hit his face and chest when Tavros tried to shake his wings clean.

“Shit, man I'm sorry. I Shoulda...” Gamzee began, voice barely above a whisper, he was so confused, it felt like he was still dreaming. “Just...fuck.” He didn't know what to say. His clean(ish) hand reached towards Tavros, pulling a bit of sheet with it to help clean his friend up, but he realized that the scratchy fabric might hurt Tavros's skin or wings, he wasn't exactly sure if it would work anyways. He paused, unsure. Suddenly aware of the total unfamiliarity of the situation, of how lost and foolish he felt.

“...Tav?”

Tavros moved back, out of the puddle of genetic material, making little footprints where he went. He was still blushing, and dripping, trying to get his breathing back under control, but it seemed like the genetic material had gone down the wrong windpipe.

He looked up at Gamzee who looked unsure, for once, holding out the sheet awkwardly. It would do, for now, he guessed, even if he knew the sheets were scratchy and not all that absorbent.. There was an ablution chamber attached to the room, but he didn’t have any of his animals to help him muse it. He tried to smile reassuringly at Gamzee but it probably came out a bit strained.

“Could, you bring the sheet edge here, so I can get this off my front, at least..” He trailed off, trying not to fidget.

Gamzee nodded, and pulled a hunk of sheet onto his stomach. He looked away as Tavros started to wipe himself off, for some reason he felt useless now... and intrusive.

His eyes fell on the pillow beside him. He didn't know why he had a double bed, he never had anyone to share it with. He though for a moment fondly on his recoupracoon days, but that was childish, it was stupid to dwell on the past, on things you couldn't have.

He eyes flickered back to Tavros, who was trying to remove as much of the purple as he could from his body. Gamzee bit his lip.

“C'mere, Tavros.” He said suddenly. Lifting his hand and motioning for Tavros to crawl into it.

The sheet was thick and unwieldy in his small hands. It kept slipping out and he kept missing spots because he couldn’t see. It was also weird, having Gamzee there, trying not to look at him. He was mildly startled when Gamzee asked him to get on his hand.

Had it been any other troll, he would have thought about it, but this was Gamzee. He dropped the sheet with a little ‘Okay.’ before he flew, thankfully the genetic material had already been thrown off. He looked a bit guiltily up at Gamzee’s face, where some of it had splattered.

Gamzee carefully swung his legs over the edge of the bed and stood up. Kicking his dirty boxers off his feet and to the floor. Carrying Tavros in one hand he headed for the ablution chamber. He was trying not to think for the moment, though a lot of unpleasant thoughts (and a few pleasant ones) kept trying to surface, he pushed them down and focused just on Tavros and getting them both clean.


End file.
